


Decisions

by phoenixnz



Series: The Chronicles of Martha and Jonathan [9]
Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixnz/pseuds/phoenixnz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lives of Jonathan and Martha from their first date to the Smallville finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions

Clark had been with them only a few weeks and there were times when Jonathan wondered what they had let themselves in for.

The little boy seemed to have adapted very well, although he still couldn’t speak English yet. Martha was, of course, completely besotted with their son. Jonathan had to admit to himself the child was adorable and he enjoyed watching his wife with the boy, especially at bath time.

At first Clark had been a little unsure of himself when Martha had begun to draw him his first bath. He’d looked at the water running in fascination, standing naked beside his mother, watching as the tub filled. As Jonathan watched his little boy Clark moved so quickly they couldn’t stop him, running his hand through the hot water.

Martha gasped, grabbing Clark’s hand.

“No, sweetie, that’s hot,” she warned. Clark’s eyes grew huge and he looked like he was going to cry, clearly startled by Martha’s actions.

What confused Jonathan was when Martha looked at the boy’s hand, it was a little pink from the heat of the water, but there was no sign of any scalding.

He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of place the boy had come from. Clark looked like a normal little boy, which wasn’t unusual, he supposed, but then again, he had seen a few alien movies in his time and he would have expected something to have been different.

Still, there was a big difference between imagination and reality and when it happened, Jonathan was unable to believe the evidence of his own eyes.

Like any normal toddler, or at least from what Jonathan’s friends who had kids told him, Clark had had his fair share of temper tantrums. Jonathan could sympathise, knowing that it must be frustrating for the little boy who had come from a place that must be so different from Earth. Definitely more advanced, he thought.

He also had his fair share of mishaps.

Clark had been playing in the barn while Jonathan worked on the tractor. He’d turned his back on the boy for just a second to tighten a nut when he’d heard scrabbling above him. Jonathan whirled, alarmed to realise Clark wasn’t beside him, but had somehow managed to get up to the hayloft.

Jonathan had been considering building steps up to the loft, for now using it as temporary storage. Clearly Clark had found the ladder and wondered what was up there. He was now standing on the topmost rung of the ladder, looking around.

“Clark!” Jonathan cried out in alarm.

The little boy turned his head at Jonathan’s shout, losing his balance. Jonathan ran to the bottom of the ladder and was about to start the climb up when the toddler fell off. He quickly stepped away and tried to catch his son.

Clark didn’t quite weigh as much as a fifty pound bag of feed, but it was still enough to send Jonathan sprawling as the wind was knocked out of him. The boy scrambled up, clearly unhurt, and ran out.

Jonathan managed to get to his feet and ran out after his son, calling his name. As little as Clark was, he sure seemed to be quick on his feet, Jonathan thought. He’d disappeared before Jonathan could catch him.

He ran into the house, calling for his wife.

“Martha?”

Martha was baking. The sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the house. Clark liked cookies, especially Martha’s oatmeal raisin ones.

She wiped her hands on a towel and looked around at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Clark … is he here?”

“He came running in a minute ago,” she said. “Jonathan, what’s wrong?” she repeated.

“He had a little … accident. I don’t think he’s hurt, just scared.”

“I think he went upstairs,” she said, starting to take off her apron. He shook his head.

“Let me get him,” he said, thinking it was his fault Clark was so scared. If he hadn’t shouted, Clark wouldn’t have fallen off the ladder.

He went upstairs, checking first the bathroom and Clark’s bedroom, but the little boy wasn’t there. The door to the attic was kept locked, so he knew Clark wouldn’t have gone there.

Biting his lip, he called out.

“Clark? It’s okay son.”

He tried to sound reassuring but wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Clark had obviously been frightened by the mishap, which was understandable, but Jonathan would have thought the toddler would have come out when called.

Guess not, he thought, realising he couldn’t assume anything when it came to his son.

The door to his and Martha’s room was ajar when normally it was closed when they weren’t in it. Clark had started to explore his new world which meant he would frequently get into mischief. Martha had taken to closing the bedroom door thinking it would keep the boy out.

He slowly pushed the door open and heard little sobs and moans coming from underneath the bed. It was a huge oak bed his grandfather had made long before Jonathan had been born. It was a heavy thing and Martha often complained when she had to move the bed to vacuum underneath.

“Clark? It’s all right,” he said.

Clark stopped crying, his sobs becoming hiccoughs.

“You can come out,” Jonathan coaxed.

Still no sign of him. Jonathan realised there was nothing for it. He would have to crawl under the bed to get his son out.

There wasn’t much room under the bed - no more than about a foot. Just big enough for a three year old, or rather a two and a half year old Clark’s size. Certainly not big enough for a man Jonathan’s size.

Still, he did his best to crawl on his stomach underneath, offering Clark a reassuring smile. His son stared at him in fascination, all thoughts of his fright long forgotten. Oh to be a child with a short memory, Jonathan thought with a smile.

He lifted his head suddenly, smashing his crown against the bottom slat of the bed.

“Ow!” he said.

Clark giggled, a high childish sound.

“Oh you think that’s funny huh?”

Well, he supposed it could look funny to a toddler, he thought, continuing to struggle along the floor to get to Clark.

Suddenly the space under the bed was no longer so confined. Jonathan stared in amazement, wondering how it could have happened. He sat up, looking around, then was stunned to realise Clark was lifting it up.

He stared at his son, open-mouthed. Dear god, what had they let into their lives? he thought.

He scrambled quickly away from underneath the bed, which was now about a foot above his head. He had no idea how Clark was doing it and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Clark, son, put it down,” he said, not sure if his boy understood him. He held out his hands, palms down, and pushed down, hoping Clark would understand the action.

It seemed he did as a few moments later he let the bed down, although none too gently. The bed landed on the floor with a loud thump.

Martha appeared in the doorway less than a minute later.

“What was that?” she asked.

Jonathan had gathered his son in his arms, a little fearful, considering what he’d just witnessed, but trying to reassure him all the same.

He waited until after Clark had had his dinner and a bath and been put to bed before he told his wife what had happened. She looked just as stunned as he felt.

Martha had always been the more open-minded of the two of them, but after what her husband had related about Clark, she had difficulty trying to understand what had just happened.

She watched her son over the next couple of days and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but clearly Jonathan was worried.

He began talking about taking their son to a doctor who could help them and spent the next few days going through the phone directory. Neither of them wanted to take Clark to the hospital, knowing that would be just as likely to frighten the child.

Yet, Martha worried about her little boy. Maybe he had only been with them a couple of months, but she already loved the little boy and felt he was as much her son as if she had given birth to him.

Despite her husband’s fears, she had no such concerns about Clark. She loved watching him play and explore the strange new world he’d found himself in.

She had no idea where it had come from, but Clark had managed to find a rag doll that he played with. It was like a normal rag doll, with yellow coloured wool for hair. Clark was sitting on the floor of the parlour, a plate of cookies by his side, playing with the doll.

“Lara,” he said, stroking its head.

Martha frowned, listening as he said it again. She wondered what the word meant, but didn’t think too much of it.

Jonathan entered the kitchen, holding a magazine.

“I think I found a place,” he said. “There’s a doctor in Metropolis. I think we should take Clark to him. At least let him have a look at him.”

“Jonathan …”

“Martha, sweetheart, Clark isn’t a normal child. We’re just not equipped to deal with this.”

Martha knew her husband’s mind was set and she went along with it, holding Clark in her arms as Jonathan drove to Metropolis. He looked up at her, his green eyes wide, but so trusting. As much as she wanted to solve the mystery of her son, it played on her mind.

As Jonathan pulled the truck into a parking space next to the building which housed the laboratory complex, she stared at it. The building was a horrible dark grey. It looked cold and so impersonal. She wondered what kind of person this doctor would be.

“Come on, Martha,” Jonathan said, his hand on the door handle.

“Jonathan, wait. I’m not sure about this,” she said, looking down at her son once again.

“Martha, sweetheart, we can’t …”

“Jonathan, don’t you understand? If this doctor realises Clark isn’t … from here, he could have him locked up in some government lab and we’d never see him again. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what to do, Martha. You know what happened.”

“I know. But I also know that he’s just a little boy who won’t understand what we’re doing. Jonathan, I think we were meant to be Clark’s parents. We were meant to protect him.”

Her husband bit his lip. “But sweetheart …”

“Don’t you see? If the government takes him away, they could do anything to him. They could hurt him.”

She had seen enough movies about alien invasions to know that the government didn’t take kindly to visitors from another world. How could she leave this little boy in the hands of someone who wouldn’t care that they were hurting him? Who would probably dissect him like a frog? No, she thought. It was up to them to protect Clark. Their son.

Jonathan looked at her and nodded. He turned on the ignition and pulled away from the complex. Taking his family back home. 


End file.
